But Not Broken
by kingpintales
Summary: Sun and Jack are on the run in a stolen pickup somewhere in Central America. Five years after the island, the survivors are still being hunted, one by one. How long can they run before they lose the last vestiges of their humanity?
1. Chapter 1: Time

**Author: **KC  
**Premise: **Sun and Jack are on the run in a stolen pickup somewhere in Central America. Five years after the island, the survivors are still being hunted, one by one. Locke awaits their arrival in a Peruvian monastery. But how long can they run and how much can they endure before they lose the last vestiges their humanity? Will they be able to find salvation in each other? Perhaps, with the help of an unexpected friend, they can make it to safe harbor.  
**Theme Song:** Run to the Water by Live

**Chapter 1 of 20  
Time  
**

It used to be the story of how they all came to know one another that was the big mystery. But that long-forgotten island was now five years gone, and Sun had trouble really recalling any of the details. Sometimes even the crash itself escaped her memory. Now, the real mystery was how any of them were still alive.

Not even half had made it off the island. Her recollection of that remained clouded in her mind. Perhaps, if she had lived a quiet life from then until now, maybe then, those screams would still haunt her. But their faded guttural cries didn't bother her any longer. They had been the lucky ones; she knew that now.

Jack drove down the deserted road, the stolen white pickup kicking up rocks and mud in their wake. They were in some unnamed Central American country. Sun had trouble keeping track these days. She rolled down the window, allowing the cool humidity from that afternoon's heavy rainfall to waft into the cab and fill her nose and lungs. She knew that smell – the must from the forest, the freshness of tropical rain. Along with the noise from the truck grinding its way through the underdeveloped landscape, the scent of the air was somehow a comfort to her. Running was the easy part. It was staying that scared her now. It always ended badly.

He hadn't spoken in a long time. Hours? Days? She didn't know. He'd pull over so they could sleep – always in the truck – or stop for food, but she'd barely heard more than a grunt from him since Claire had been taken in Mexico City six days ago. She had been the last. Jin had been the first. They had long since stopped any rescue efforts. It was no use. They were taken and they were as good as dead. Now, she and Jack, along with John Locke were the last known survivors of flight 815.

Locke had found safe haven somewhere in Peru, and they were traveling south to join him. Flying wasn't safe, and they'd almost gotten nabbed at a couple of borders. Whoever they were, these guys had connections. They weren't the Others. That seemed like a joke to her now. No, these guys were different. And whatever they'd seen on that island, they wanted the survivors gone for it. No negotiations, no explanations; only executions.

She turned towards him and reached out, absently fiddling with a hole in his sleeve. The white t-shirt he wore now resembled the worn-down rags they wore on the island. She swallowed and turned her gaze back to the road and then down to her sandal-clad feet. It would be nice to have a pair of sneakers. _The better to outrun them with_, she thought and then pushed the notion to the back of her mind.

"Jack," she finally spoke, "we should really see if we can find some clothes somewhere." They'd had to leave their things behind when Claire was taken. There was no time. It had happened before and it would inevitably happen again.

"Yeah," Jack said quietly, not bothering to look away from the road ahead. Sun closed her eyes. She preferred the silence over these uncomfortable words.

Jack and Claire had shared a bond. Both of them had seen someone they loved die at the hands of these merciless people. After Aaron, Claire was different. She stopped caring whether she lived or died. Truthfully, that had been hard on all of them. The child was more than a child. He was a symbol of hope. With him gone, it was hard to keep going, yet easier to hide – a truth none of them would ever speak aloud.

More than anything Jack wanted to protect Claire, this childless mother, broken from all she had witnessed and all she had lost. He was one of the few who had ever gotten away. When they killed Kate in front of him, Jack vowed it would never happen again. It was like he felt guilty for escaping, like it was his duty to make sure everyone else stayed alive. And they had, for a while. But now Claire was gone too and he knew there was nothing he could do to save her. Sun knew that all these quiet days were spent with that heavy burden.

Jack could sense her uneasiness. He glanced sideways to the passenger seat where she sat, staring out the side window with one knee propped under her chin. Her dark messy hair was pulled back into a loose bun with several free strands falling haphazardly around her neck and down the back of her red tank top.

She bore no resemblance to the woman who had crash landed on that island with him just over five years earlier. That person had long since gone. She was stronger – soft flesh giving way to lean muscle, hope giving way at first to despair and then finally to resilience. Her voice had changed too. Once timid, she was now all conviction and thoroughly American, only a hint of her Korean accent left. It was deliberate. Sounding more American helped her to blend in and likely saved her life more than once.

"We should get a tank of gas and clean up before heading back to the coast. There will be a lot of tourists," he paused, realizing how foreign his own voice sounded to him after going so long without using it, "good for getting lost in the crowd."

"It would be nice to sleep in a real bed," she added, hopeful. She turned towards him, her lips curling into that slightly lopsided vulnerable smile she reserved strictly for moments like this – when it was a choice between another uncomfortable night in this smelly truck or a bed and a shower and, if they were lucky, a television.

He chuckled slightly, bowing his head. "Very subtle." Back roads, with few amenities, had all too often become a necessary evil.

"We need the rest. I can't sleep in this truck," she said, vying for the sympathy vote. Then she added, "It's not safe, Jack."

He nodded gravely, dodging a puddle in the road ahead. That, he knew, was true. They'd have to get rid of this truck soon anyway – and sleeping in the open had been a risky move to begin with. He always found a remote place to park, but with the world outside no more than a windshield away, he'd begun to feel apprehensive. They'd stop a little ways ahead and check the map. They were somewhere in the middle of Costa Rica. They'd be in Panama soon.

He sighed, glancing at her once more, finding her eyes full of hope. It was nice to see, but beyond that hope hid fear. "We're probably just a couple of hours east of Quepos. We can find some food, clothes, and a place to stay for couple of days there before heading on to Panama."

"Thank you," she mouthed silently and smiled before he turned back to the road. She leaned into the seat, sinking into it fully for the first time in six days.

* * *

Sun rinsed her hands in the tiny sink of the gas station bathroom and dried them on a paper towel. It had been the only station they'd seen in a long time, so they had little choice. Jack spoke Spanish, a language that she only vaguely understood, to the short balding attendant in order to get the key to the toilet. It wasn't much, but it was something. 

Wanting to stretch her legs a bit, she let Jack go first with the promise that she'd stay close by. She almost laughed at that. The place looked as though nobody had been there in a hundred years. What were the odds that anybody would find them out here? Instead of running water, she'd half-expected spiders to come scurrying out of the faucet.

She sighed and stared at herself through the soiled foggy mirror, which was cracked precisely down the center, distorting her vision of herself even further in the dim yellow light of the room. Cleaning up in here hadn't been exactly easy. Luckily, she'd picked up a few bars of soap and a couple of rags at the last station because this dump had none of it.

Hooking her finger underneath her ponytail holder, she let the loose tendrils fall around her face and shoulders. She thought she was imagining it, but now she was sure that her hair was adopting a slight curl. Her entire life, she'd always had straight hair. This was new to her. She shrugged, tossing her things into the brown sack she'd carried them in with and exiting the lavatory. She allowed the heavy metal door to slam shut behind her.

Jack was standing at the payphone on the wall by the door as she came out. He uttered one last instruction into the recording and hung up the receiver.

"Touching base?," she asked as she walked past him to open the door of the truck and put her things inside. He turned to watch her as she went, catching her scent. He still smelled like shit, he knew. How was it possible that she could smell so good after attempting to clean up in that dirty little hole?

"We're getting closer," he answered finally, remembering himself. "We still don't know exactly where we're headed. Peru is a big country."

Sun shrugged turning back towards him, "Do you think he'll try to contact us soon?"

"I hope so." Jack said, following her to the attendant's station to pay for their gas and a few bottles of water. "…I hope so."


	2. Chapter 2: 6th Sense

**Author: **KC  
**Premise:** Jack and Sun are heading to the coast to find some clothes and and a bed for a few nights. An unplanned stop might lead them right into danger's hands.

**Chapter 2 of 20  
6th Sense **

Jack felt a heavy weight in his stomach, like a stone – which made no sense because he hadn't really eaten much in a couple of days. Everything tasted bland, and the customarily colorful mangoes seemed dull and faded. He just stopped being hungry. Sun would hand him a piece of fruit or hard bread or whatever junk they had picked up that day and tell him, "Eat." And he would, absently, functionally – bite, chew, swallow, don't choke as it goes down, half-chewed and unevenly shaped, scraping his esophagus.

Even on this empty stomach, he felt an uncomfortable fullness come over him as they reached the coast. Something about being at the edge of jungle and sand still made him anxious – too many memories. It was like the rewind button was somewhere near, if only he could find it. He didn't like that inexhaustible feeling of regret, and he avoided it whenever he could. In truth, he could see no other way around it. It was what it was. There was no point in looking back. He swallowed hard, ignoring the memories which bubbled to the surface at the sight of the blue ocean once more.

They had come out about twenty miles north of Quepos, and he continued driving the pick-up south. It wouldn't be long. They'd buy some clothes, a decent pair of shoes for her, and some food. They'd done this all before.

Her dark hair caught the afternoon sun that streamed in through the passenger window. She was sleeping with her head resting against the window frame, curled up and turned away from him. He smiled; glad she was finally getting some rest. He couldn't explain what Sun had come to mean to him. On the run so long together, he'd somehow known it would be the two of them alone in the end. Even before Kate. He remembered during those first weeks on the island, Sun had somehow found a way to take control of situations in a way he never thought of – when Boone was bloody and on his table and Shannon was gasping for much needed air. He shook the thoughts from his mind. It wasn't the memory that bothered him, but the fact that he could barely remember their faces.

It was her idea to find a place to stay, and he couldn't really blame her. Days got long when you were out of places to run to. The fear and perpetual motion had worn them both down. After she suggested it, all he could think about was a soft bed, a real shower, and four thick walls to hide behind.

A bump in the road and she began to stir, yawning, stretching, her arm in front of him, grazing his shoulder and chest before she sat up fully. She glanced at the ocean and then at him, still sleepy-eyed.

"Sorry. These roads aren't exactly up to code," said Jack.

She let out a short laugh. "No," she said, shaking her head in agreement. "Are we close? Should I drive? You're probably tired."

Before he could answer, a small cluster of stucco buildings became visible on the right side of the road. He nodded towards them. "Looks like we can do some shopping here first," he said, as he pulled up to one of the small buildings. There was a gaudy blue and pink surfboard logo with the words "Surf's Up" printed on the window. He put it in park and got out of the truck.

Sun was still too tired to move. "This is Quepos?," she asked, after he walked around the truck and opened her door, which creaked in protest, to coax her out. At this point, nothing would surprise her. The small strip of businesses and buildings looked more like pit-stop than a town.

"No. Not yet." Jack shook his head. "But, it's about time to ditch this truck. We can probably find something else here."

"Oh," she nodded and stepped out of the truck. Jack instinctively grabbed onto her arm, helping her out. She ignored his strong fingers wrapped around her bicep and the cold she felt when he let go and turned to lead her to the door of the surf shop. She closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. Touching wasn't new – tight quarters and all. But some days she could feel their physical proximity becoming something more – something she wasn't ready to admit she needed. There were more pressing matters at hand.

* * *

"Perdón, uh…" Jack fumbled with his Spanish as he dumped an armful of clothes and two shoe boxes on the countertop in front of the young floppy-haired clerk, whose nametag read "Miguel." The selection was limited, but they had plenty of khakis, t-shirts, and even underwear – that is, if customers didn't mind the tacky Surf's Up logo and the slight smell of marijuana. He handed Miguel a few tags from the clothes Sun was putting on in the restroom, and gestured to the empty shoe box. "Me… disculpo, Miguel. Ella está cambiando de ropa en tu baño. ¿Está bien?"

"Está bien," the clerk replied quickly before he gave Jack a sideways glance. "¿Habla inglés, bro?," he added in a decidedly Californian accent as he rang up their things with one hand and shook a brown paper bag with the other until it opened obediently.

"Sí," Jack answered. "I mean, yeah. Sorry." He glanced down the hall on his right towards the bathroom door instinctively, checking for Sun, and then turned back to Miguel. "Actually, I'll just put those in my pack here." He took off his backpack and tossed it onto the counter. "I guess you're not from Costa Rica, then?" he asked, although it interested him very little.

"Nah, man. My parents are. I grew up in Encinitas. The folks moved back down a couple'a years ago – needed some help in the shop." Miguel looked at him expectantly with his soft dark Hispanic eyes, but when Jack didn't make further conversation, he continued ringing the merchandise.

Down the hall in the single bathroom, Sun stood in her underwear. She folded her dirty clothes and placed them carefully into her backpack. She slid the long khakis onto her legs and pulled them over her hips, covering the red Surf's Up panties she was wearing. The pants were a little loose when she buttoned them, but they would do. She zipped them and then searched for the socks she'd picked out.

According to the map, they only had about a half hour's drive to Quepos. She was grateful for that and happy to be out of those old clothes. Outside the cracked window, Sun could see that it was now dusk and it smelled like it was going to rain again.

"Your friend's a hottie." Miguel said casually after Jack paid for their stuff. At that, Jack flashed him a disapproving look. Jack's face felt warm, flush with a sudden anger he hadn't expected. Before he had the opportunity to embarrass himself further, Miguel covered. "Aw, no harm meant. You on your honeymoon or something?"

Jack laughed, nodding slowly. "Something like that," he said. A lie was good. It was much easier to pass as a couple of honeymooners now that it was just the two of them. He didn't even notice the bell chiming behind him, signifying the arrival of another customer.

"Ah," said Miguel knowingly, "I get it, hombre." He winked then, giving Jack the _you dog, you_ look before skipping off to help the new customer.

Jack sighed, still feeling a little tense. He wished she would hurry. He suddenly had the urge to leave immediately. He finished stuffing his pack and zipped it. As he flung it around and slipped his arms through the straps, he caught sight of something in the mirror on the sunglasses rack by the counter.

He recognized the man to whom Miguel was currently pitching his surfboards. His back was turned and he was partially covered by a rack of wakeboards, but Jack knew that stance, those shoulders, the salt-and-pepper buzz cut, and the bulge of his gun on his back behind his black t-shirt. _Winchester_. He's the one who killed Kate. He had introduced himself to Jack in the crowded diner that morning. Kate had been in the bathroom. She could have walked. But when she came out and saw him standing with this man they'd run from so many times, her only instinct was to save him. She couldn't leave him. She couldn't. Jack had gone over this before. _If only_. Terrible words. But no matter how it ended, he would have made the same decision as she had. It was a mistake that would be her death sentence. History was repeating itself. Now he had a chance to give it a different ending.

Miguel kept talking, his fluent Spanish now hiding every trace of California. Winchester was a patient man. Jack remembered that about him. Based on his experience in the half an hour they'd been in the store, Jack knew that Miguel would give them a head start. He grabbed a pair of dark sunglasses and slipped them on. It was a haphazard disguise – foolish even – but at the moment, it was the only thing he could think to do.

He had to get to her. There had been a window in the bathroom, he'd noticed that when he handed her the sneakers she'd picked out. It was big enough to fit through and they were on the first floor. All he had to do was turn right and slip down the hall towards the lavatory. _Easy_. Had she locked the door? He couldn't remember. Regardless, he made his move. Winchester didn't notice. As he rounded the corner and retreated down the hall, he heard Miguel calling after him.

"Where ya goin', bro?," he called, and then a moment later heard a scuffle. "What the hell are you doing, dude?!" By the urgency in his voice, Jack could tell that Miguel's attention was now focused on Winchester. "Hey, stop!" Miguel's shouts were followed by the sound of shelves breaking.

The door was unlocked. Sun jumped, her eyes wide. She had just slipped on her backpack. "What?," she asked.

There was a shot and then a sound that Jack knew was Miguel's body hitting the floor. There were no more words necessary. He nodded towards the window, and she went to work, pushed back the curtains and pressed up on the frame forcefully. He locked the door behind him and shoved the trashcan under the handle. Heavy footsteps pounded towards the hall, then voices. Winchester wasn't alone, as he so often was. A shout, "Shephard!"

"I can't get it open, Jack!" Sun cried.

"I got it," he said, stepping towards the window. He reached back and pulled out the 9mm Beretta that he carried in his belt loop. He gripped the gun by the barrel and used the butt to break the window. He hit the glass repeatedly until it was completely shattered. Then, he knocked out the shards with his elbow, leaving jagged cuts in the process. The weakened frame moved easily out of the way this time. Winchester was now pounding at the bathroom door.

"Let's go," Jack said. He grabbed Sun's hand, and she shimmied backwards through the window with no problem. He pushed through head first, falling with a thud to the ground. They were in the small dirt alley beside the shop, and he could see the truck from where he landed. She bent down and helped him up. They ran toward the truck, and a glance around the corner revealed that the way was clear; they could make it without anyone seeing. Jack slumped against the wall, his confidence of a moment earlier ebbing with the sensation of warm blood trickling down his arm. He'd cut himself deeper than he had thought.

"Jack," Sun said, gripping his arm. She touched his face. He was getting pale. "Jack, we have to go. They're coming." He closed his eyes as his vision blurred. "Jack!," she screamed, and he started to walk, his feet dragging like heavy weights. She pushed him into the passenger seat and climbed over him to the driver's side. She reached into his pants pocket, searching for the key.

"Other pocket," he grunted before losing consciousness.


	3. Chapter 3: Reflection

**Chapter 3**

**Prompt 20 - Reflection**

**by: KC**

He would often dream of her. It wasn't the same with Aaron. He had witnessed that too, in the stairwell, holding Claire back, pulling her to safety – her wild hair a mess of blood and tears, arms flailing. It gave him a sick feeling in his stomach every time he thought about it – the child's lifeless body being thrown over the railing, landing in front of them on the stairs, face up, bloodied, arms and legs twisted and broken, eyes wide with terror. At least they'd shot him first, he had thought at the time, the cruel words pounding in his head much louder than Claire's cries. He had become accustomed to this. But there were never dreams about Aaron like there were with her. They always started differently, but ended the same: with her dead and with blood on his hands.

_"You're an excellent chef," he said. He was sitting on a flat rock on the beach back on the island. Everything was brighter than usual. She scooted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder._

_"I don't know about that," she said, laughing as she grabbed a slice of mango from the plate he was using. It was the same china his mother used for company when he was a kid. He was never allowed to touch it. Now, that forbidden dinnerware seemed suddenly small in his large hands. "Doesn't take a culinary miracle to chop fruit." He kissed her then, tasting the sweet juice lingering on her lips. She was cold. He shivered as they parted. _

_"Why did you stay, Kate?," he asked abruptly, and suddenly the plate was gone. The façade of the beach began to diminish around them, and after a few moments, they were once again tied up and huddled together on the stone floor of that basement. _

_"Don't you know?," she asked, discarding her bonds as though they were made of paper instead of thick rope._

_"Would I have asked?," he reasoned. She took his hands palms-up in hers and kissed his fingertips. _

_"You know something, Jack?" She looked up. He could vaguely sense her reaching around to grab the 9MM from behind him, could feel the cool metal move over his skin as she pulled it out from its familiar spot at his back, but he couldn't stop what would happen next. Never could. "You won't ever find out." And he knew the rest. She pressed the cold barrel of the gun against her temple and squeezed the trigger in one swift motion. The sound of the bullet never changed - a blast and a sickening splatter as she slumped into his arms - all life drained from her in a single moment._

He awoke with a start in an unfamiliar bed. Had he slept all this time? He tried to think, the floodgates opening when he twisted in an attempt to get up and he felt the sting of pain in his arm. He grasped it involuntarily, feeling the rough work of her quick sutures which lay just below his tattoo. He remembered an abandoned barn, the smell of fuel oil and pig shit, the sting of her needle and an all-black 1975 Chevy Camaro, which she'd hotwired like she'd been doing it for years. She _had_ been doing it for years.

None of the memories were clear. It must have been the drugs. They carried some of the strong stuff with them at all times. They couldn't afford the risk of hospitals, so they chanced it. They could always get rid of it in a hurry if they needed to, and Jack always knew how to get more. She must have overmedicated him when before stitching him up. He'd have to remind her to be more careful with that. How long had he been sleeping?

He sat up and immediately felt a wave of nausea hit him. He pressed his palms into the edge of the bed as he hunched over and dry heaved. He really had been sleeping a while. He stood up and felt a subtle loss, a lack of pressure around his neck. On the nightstand was a withering black fabric cord with a key attached – the key to the box that housed Kate's secrets and that he had kept with him to this day. Why had she taken it off? He grabbed it and tied it quickly around his neck.

Sun came out of the bathroom with a towel around her neck followed by a billow of steam. The top of her slender legs disappeared underneath a long t-shirt. She stopped when she saw him.

"You're up," she said, taken by surprise. She paused when she noticed him finishing up with the knot. "It fell off," she said simply, resisting the urge to ask him why he still wore that, feeling the weight of her wedding band pressing against her ring finger. She knew why he did. What she didn't say was that it fell off because she had been messing with it as he slept, fingering the knot a little more roughly than she maybe should have. When she had helped him into bed, she was surprised to see the black fabric peeking out from behind his white t-shirt. She didn't realize he had kept that thing all of these years.

"Did you check us in under…"

"Archie Canyon? Yeah," she finished for him, "I remembered."

"Good." He sighed. It was a code. He'd leave a voice message on a landline answering machine based out of Ottawa Ontario with the name of a city and a different alias so that Locke could reach them wherever they were going.

"How are you healing?" Sun walked over to him and reached for his arm, her gentle touch much less abrasive than his was a moment earlier.

"Stitch job could have been better," he teased, finally shaking off the last bit of sleepiness.

She looked at him and smiled shyly, "Well, I was in a hurry, Doctor Shephard."

He turned his head slightly towards hers, the distance between them becoming almost non-existent. "You did a fine job," he assured her, brushing a strand of wet hair from her eyes. She blushed violently.

"Well, I only learned from the best." She quickly let go of his arm and turned away from him, grabbing a towel off of the dresser and tossing it to him. "Shower's free."

He sighed, knowing he had crossed the line. It happened much more frequently now that they were alone. "Thanks," he nodded, walking past her to the bathroom. "Oh, Sun?," he asked, turning towards her as he passed.

"Yes?"

"Any word?"

"Not yet." She swallowed, shaking her head as she shot him a grave look. It had been over a day. "Not yet."

* * *

Sun lay on her stomach and flipped through the channels on the small television, searching for something in English. Usually the hotels would have a few programs for tourists. She heard the shower being turned on as the hard spray hit the walls of the tub and the cheap metal rungs of the curtain screeched in protest at being yanked across the bar. 

She tried not to think about the exchange that had occurred between her and Jack. It wasn't the first time they'd shared awkward moments such as that. But each time, it seemed increasingly harder for her to ignore the stirring in her stomach when he looked at her that way, the way his voice dropped to a level that she knew could mean only one thing, when she could feel his hot breath on her neck.

Three sharp raps at the door pushed the unwelcome thoughts from her mind. She jumped up as a lump rose in her throat and waited for four more knocks to signify that it was a friend. She tiptoed to the door, looking through the peephole. The hall was empty. She could hear the water running, so she knew that Jack was still in the shower.

Her hands shook slightly and she willed herself not to call for him. It was probably no big deal. She looked again. Still nothing. She turned and headed for the bathroom door when she heard four more sharp knocks.

* * *

Jack stood directly under the shower head and let the cool spray beat down onto his head and back. He pressed his palms against the wall in front of him and examined his stitches further. She really had done a shoddy job, but he couldn't blame her after the chase. 

He tried to push away the images of her: sewing him up, hotwiring the car, walking around in that night shirt, blushing at his touch. He tried to ignore his growing erection at the mere thought. The cold shower wasn't helping him at all. He closed his eyes and ran both hands over his head and then his neck before dropping one arm down to remedy his situation. He sucked in a sharp breath, water filtering in through his lips and stopped fighting the images that flashed in his mind.

When Jack came out of the bathroom a half an hour later, Sun was sitting cross-legged, on the bed, surrounded on all sides by what looked like the _New York Times_. "Jack!," she said excitedly. "Locke sent us a message."

She jumped from the bed, papers rustling in her wake, some falling to the floor behind her. She handed him a small notepad on which she'd scratched some notes. "These words and letters were marked in a yellow highlighter. I put them together in order. It's a message of some kind. At the bottom." She pointed to the only coherent bit on the page.

**Go to God, where I've been kept safe for two years.**

"'Go to God?'" Jack repeated.

"I know. It doesn't make sense to me either," Sun said. "But look." She turned, grabbed the front page, and thrust it at him. "Our numbers are written here." She pointed to some handwritten numbers in the center of the page. Jack held the page closer, examining the numbers intently.

**24 32 61 51 8 4 :51 40 - 21 50**

"The first group is the numbers from the computer in the hatch. They're backwards," she added. "I have no idea what the second group of numbers mean."

"Well if they're backwards…," Jack said, walking past her to sit on the bed.

"Then these others must be backwards as well." She turned around, knitting her brows in thought. He reached out, his fingers brushing hers as he grabbed the pen from her hand. He wrote the numbers in reverse.

**05 12 - 04 15: 4 8 15 16 23 42**

"Five twelve," he said aloud, "May twelfth. That's my birthday. Sun, is your birthday in April?"

"The fifteenth," she said quickly, glancing at his notes. "But what does that mean?"

"Was there any delay in getting our room? Anything weird when we checked in?"

"Well," she paused, thinking as she sat next to him. "The front desk clerk," she said finally, "there was this look of… recognition," she continued, "when I gave him the name – Archie Canyon. I mean, I'm no Archie Canyon. I figured he just assumed it was an alias. But maybe… maybe not. I had to wait a full half hour before the room was ready. Do you think they were waiting for us?"

"It's happened before, Sun," Jack said. He stood, walked over to the dresser, and began opening the drawers. "Maybe there's something else here. What about a date book? Did you see anything?"

"No." She reached for the drawer in the night stand. "Here." A small black leather-bound date book sat alone in the top drawer. She opened it to May 12th, the first date in the message. "Meet at Club Revelation," she read aloud. She flipped back to April 15th, "Thirteenth Street."

He picked up the phone and dialed the front desk. "Sí. Inglés, por favor." He waited. Sun walked over to him, showing him the notes in the date book.

"Yes, Hi," he said finally. "Is there a Club Revelation in town?" He paused momentarily, allowing the attendant to answer. "Okay, well, are there any clubs on Thirteenth Street?," he asked. After a quiet moment, he thanked the attendant and hung up the phone.

"There's no Club Revelation. There's not even a thirteenth street." He looked at her and she met his gaze. They stared at each other for a few moments, both lost in thought.

"Isn't Revelations a book in the Bible?," she finally asked.

"Of course," Jack said. "'Go to God.' It makes sense." He glanced toward the night stand. "Was there a Bible in there?" He hoped that Gideons International hadn't forgotten about Costa Rica.

"I don't know. I didn't check the bottom drawer," she answered.

Jack crossed the room and pulled out the red hardcover book. He flipped through the pages until he reached Revelations, chapter 13. At the bottom of the page were a set of global coordinates.

**15° 33' 46S 72° 56' 18W**

"Bingo!," he said, a smile creeping onto his face. John never let them down. "He left us some coordinates. This must be where Locke is hiding. I'll need access to a computer."

"There was one in the lobby," Sun said. "We can check tomorrow."

She walked back over to the bed and plopped down. "How does he do it?," she wondered.

"Do what?" Jack asked, sitting beside her.

"Trust all of these people," she answered.

"He's foolish." Jack answered simply.

"And us?," she asked, looking at him her eyes locking with his. "What does that make us?"

"We're desperate," he answered. "We have no other choice."


	4. Chapter 4: If the answer is no

**Genre:** Road/Action/Adventure/Romance  
**Fandom:** LOST  
**Characters:** Sun/Jack  
**Rating:** R  
**So far:** After a short-lived rest in Quepos, Jack and Sun are on the road again, heading for the Panama Canal.

**But Not Broken  
Chapter 4 – And if the Answer is No, Can I Change Your Mind?**

Sand and blood – that's all she really remembered about the island. That's what made her furious about the chase and all the people that had been killed for what they supposedly knew. Family was the other thing. They lived together and they died together. There were parts of her, irrational, forgetful parts, that wished they were still back there. It was the only place she and Jin had ever really been happy together.

She sat on the bed, waiting for Jack to return from the hotel lobby, her muscles tight and aching, tense with the fear of being alone. Two days had gone by and they'd kept themselves holed up, hoping Winchester and his men would assume they'd moved on. A safe place was never taken for granted, but it also never stayed safe for every long. Someone would be back for them, and the truth was they probably should have left already – would have, too, if it hadn't been for Jack's injury. Their exhaustion coupled with the first glimmer of hope that came with Locke's message had made their rest heavy and needful – a kind of relief from their burden.

She was always surprised at the things she learned about Jack in these quiet times. Like the way he always rubbed his neck when in deep conversation, a subconscious, nervous act. He had been so strong – stronger than anyone she'd known – but there was still this very vulnerable side to him – a side he was never very good at hiding. It's why they had looked to him as a leader in the first place. It wasn't because he was a doctor, although she had to admit that it helped. It was because he breathed this air of confidence and compassion that so rarely go together. It was something she had seen in Jin when she first met him – before her father broke his spirit. It was something she saw in Jack, too.

In the closet of their small room had been a black dress, left behind by a previous occupant and somehow missed by the cleaning crew. She put it on after he went downstairs. It fit her perfectly and she wore it now, feeling for the first time in a long time like a lady – with shaved legs and exposed knees. She was the fall-back plan. They needed to access a computer so they could identify the location in the coordinates. If he couldn't get to one himself, the plan was for her to distract the front desk clerk, a young man who had taken a liking to her.

This had been the hardest thing to get used to. They had become criminals, in nearly every sense of the word. Despite the life her father lived, she never made allowances for him. He had chosen his life. She never thought about what might have driven him to those decisions. For them, it was a matter of necessity. Do or die, as they say. The motive had never mattered to her before. She hadn't even taken it into account. Now, she had no choice. She was faced with her own, very real motives.

She heard the sound of the latch being unlocked from outside. She knew it was Jack by his familiar footsteps, but still got goose bumps every time a door opened.

"Santa Catalina." He said simply before opening the closet's folding door and kneeling before it, collecting their things. She stood quickly and walked over to him. Something was wrong.

"Jack?" She asked, knowing she didn't want to hear what he had to say, that their stay in Quepos had run its course.

"Peru." This one-word utterance was spoken as though it explained everything. _A ha! Peru_ She thought sarcastically. _This all makes perfect sense now._

"Put these on. We're leaving." He handed her some clothes from their pile of clean laundry and stuffed the rest haphazardly into their packs. He didn't look back at her. She kneeled down beside him and placed her hand on his to steady it.

He looked at her then, finding her eyes wide with urgency. He always found these moments difficult. "I was leaving the lobby when I saw two men come in and accost the front desk clerk. They described us to him and gave our names. I was hidden so I stayed and listened. He said he hadn't seen us and they left, but when I approached him after they were gone, he said he could tell they hadn't believed him."

Sun swallowed, closing her eyes slowly and bowed her head. It was stupid, but she'd had this vision of them leaving the hotel, arms hooked together, glancing ever forward, not afraid of what was behind them, like vacationing lovers. It was a simple, happy dream and the memory of it crept into her mind like that broken figurine – so fragile. She never should have played with it in the first place. She suddenly felt foolish in that well-fitting dress that she'd relished only moments before and wanted nothing more than to take it off.

The thought was disrupted by Jack. "We'd better hurry."

* * *

Costa Rica had an abundance of two things as far as Jack could tell – shitty paved roads and shitty dirt roads. Even someone used to driving them would find them treacherous. And the rain didn't help a bit. It was impossible to predict how long it would take them to get anywhere. Two days from their hasty escape in Quepos, Jack found that Panama wasn't much different.

When they were on the move, Jack never really thought that much about the precarious holding pattern that they were in with their pursuers – a perpetual game of cat and mouse in which their only chance of escape was moving undetected. Mice are small and can go places that a large hungry feline cannot. The recent days spent in hiding had given him time to digest their newfound autonomy, now that Claire and Aaron were gone and they were just two. Despite the close calls, Jack was certain that they had a better chance now than they had before at evading Winchester and his men. If they played it right, perhaps they could find some hole in the wall, some crack to fall into.

Crossing the border into Panama had been a kind of quiet symbolic victory. They were one step closer to God, whatever Locke had meant by that. But, when they finally reached the canal, he was still uneasy. As far as he could tell, they hadn't been followed. But the truth was that they were always followed, whether it seemed that way or not.

Sun sat up, jolted out of a reverie of her own when Jack parked the car. It was she who spoke first. "Are we stopping for the night?" Neither of them had slept in at least twenty four hours and nightfall was just around the corner. Sun pushed her hair from her eyes and unsuccessfully fought back a yawn.

"I don't think we should cross the bridge." Jack had been thinking about this all day. It was only now that he spoke up.

"You mean across the canal? I don't understand. We have to get to Santa Catalina, Jack. It's our only chance."

He looked at her puzzled face, at the panic that rose within her so much more quickly than it used to. "No, I don't mean that. Look." Jack unfolded the map at his side and Sun leaned in for a look. "Other than the Bridge of the Americas, there's really only two, maybe three other ways of crossing the canal by car. All of the traffic bottlenecks at this point. Chances are they've got somebody waiting for us at every entrance – less of a chance that they don't. It's suicide."

"So what do we do?" Sun asked, still a bit shaky from the rough ride.

"We have to get a boat. This is a major shipping thoroughfare, Sun. Several dozens of cargo ships cross the canal every day, possibly more. They'd never be able to find us. It's an easy way to fall off the radar."

Sun nodded. He was right. "You mean to stow away?"

He drew away from her and began folding the map. "I don't know, Sun." He shook his head and licked his bottom lip, another of his nervous habits. "But I do know that in order to get out of this we've gotta change the game. All of this, until now, has been reactionary. We have to start looking ahead a few moves. Otherwise we're dead."

"Dammit, Jack."

"It's the only smart thing, Sun."

"I know," she said. But that's not exactly what she meant. All of his reassurances came with a hint of doubt. She knew he only said it because it was real. But for once she just wished he could tell her things would be okay - that they were going be fine.

Outside of the car, Sun could hear the muffled music of Latin America. She heard laughter and smelled the unmistakable scent of the grill. The sweltering humidity had subsided and a cool breeze had replaced it. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to eat food and dance and forget about all of this. But her only two options were to either stow away illegally or die. She looked at Jack, his head hung low, his hand running through his short hair. She closed her eyes.

"You looked pretty." The words escaped his lips almost involuntarily.

"What?" She asked, her eyes snapping open to look at him.

"In your dress," he answered quietly. "I wanted to tell you that earlier. But, the timing didn't seem right."

"Oh," she fought back a blush.

"So," he paused. "Let's do this."

"Let's do this."


	5. Chapter 5: Infinity

Description: Sun and Jack sneak onto a tourist ferry with the help of some local teenagers in an attempt to cross the Panama Canal undetected.

**Chapter 5: Infinity**

Even though he was tall, Sun could tell that he was no more than eighteen. He was all confidence and spoke English well, though it was laden with a heavy accent. His name was Chepe, and he was originally from El Salvador. He was their ticket onto the tourist ferry that would take them to Gatun.

They could have bought their way on easily and taken the car with them, but they couldn't be seen with the spectacle of tourists. They needed a place to hide. As the son of one of the boat's many deckhands, Chepe could get them on board early and under cover for a few hundred bucks and a modest amount of their drugs.

Sun and Jack stood in an alley beside a restaurant, speaking with the kid and at least a half a dozen of his friends, whose dirty mouths began to water at the sight of the meds. They dressed all the same, decidedly North American – like all teenagers, aching to separate themselves from their parents, yet fading into one another like bricks in a wall. There was only one who stood out, looking tidy and out of place, hands shoved deeply into his pockets, eyeing the ground in front of him.

The trip was about a half a day, a cheap money maker to enthrall tourists with the marvel of twentieth-century engineering that was the Panama Canal. From what Jack could make out, Chepe – who refused to speak in his native Spanish – explained that they would be stowing away on one of the lower levels – a small storage room of some kind.

Sun spotted the better-dressed one gawking at her and then exchanging knowing looks with the ringleader, Chepe. Was he bargaining for her? She glanced anxiously at Jack as he discussed the deal with the teenager. Jack caught her eye and knitted his brows, nodding his head slightly – a move mostly imperceptible to the boys. He stepped forward, instinctively shielding her from them with his tall frame.

"Look, Chepe, maybe this would be easier if we did this without your friends here?" Jack shrugged, pocketing the drugs and the money to let him know he was serious.

Chepe looked confused for a moment and then laughed, looking between his diminutive friend and Sun. "Jai?" He nodded towards the boy at his side. "Can't help he likes what he sees."

It was a statement that prompted Jack to grab the youngster by the collar. Sun flinched as he did. The teenagers tensed up, their jaws tightening visibly, mostly in fear, as each of them took several steps backwards. He growled a threat in Spanish that Sun could not understand. She looked at the one he called Jai, a flash of embarrassed crimson rising in his cheeks as he averted her gaze awkwardly.

Chepe held up his hands. "Fuck! Okay, okay," he said, his El Salvadorian accent still thick with amusement. He wrenched back towards his friends, still caught in Jack's tight grip. He shouted something in Spanish and the boys ran off. He looked back to Jack and peeled out of his grasp.

Jack eyed the now-humbled boy, who suddenly looked much younger than he actually was. "So when do we do this?"

* * *

It was hours yet until sunrise when Jack met Chepe at the docks. He was already on the boat, and he wasn't alone. "Chepe. Jai," Jack said as the two teens hopped easily from the deck to the wooden planks where Sun and Jack stood. 

"Jack," Sun whispered as she tugged on his sleeve, noticing two small pistols which were tucked behind each of their belts. "They have guns."

"Why the artillery?" Jack asked Chepe, who was helping Jai lower the entrance walkway.

"I could ask you the same thing," Chepe responded simply, referring to Jack's nine-millimeter.

Jack looked at Sun, her face nervous and uneasy, and then back to Chepe. "Fair enough."

Chepe turned and held out his hand. "My payment?"

Jack pulled out a small brown bag and tossed it to Chepe, who caught it easily. "That's half," he said. "You get the rest when we arrive in Gatun."

"You don't trust me?" Chepe asked, a smirk creeping onto his face.

"I don't trust anybody," Jack answered stonily.

"Fair enough," said Chepe. "Come on. We don't have much time. The crew will be here soon."

* * *

The room Chepe led them to was even smaller than Sun could have imagined. They entered the tiny room; once they were both in, they barely had enough room to turn around, let alone sit. On one side of the room were stacks of large boxes, and on the other side were shelves filled with cleaning supplies. The light bulb above them was busted; Chepe gave them a small lantern and a rusting metal bucket.

"What's the bucket for?" Sun asked, without thinking.

"You'll figure it out," Chepe answered, grinning widely.

"Oh," Sun said, blushing a bit. Jack laughed, and she flashed him an angry look.

Jack silenced his amusement and turned to Chepe. "So about how long will we be down here?"

"The tour doesn't start for a few more hours," Chepe said. "After that, it'll be about a half a day and perhaps another hour for the tourists and crew to clean out. They all go to dinner in Gatun. That's when we'll extract you."

Jack nodded. "And until then?"

"We will bring you some food later," Chepe explained, standing in the doorway. "Water too. No matter what happens, don't leave this room. We'll come for you. Even if you think the ship is sinking, don't leave the room. Unless it fills with water, then you can leave. And even then, only when it gets too deep. And even then…"

"Chepe!" Jai elbowed him, rolling his eyes. "He watches too many American movies." He shook his head and chuckled, looking once again at Sun, who was surprised at his humor and his impeccable English. She remembered his predatory stare in the alley and couldn't bring herself to smile at his joke. His grin fell when he noticed her apprehension. "We'll be back soon with the food. No one will come down here. There's a store room on one of the upper levels. Fully stocked. You'll be okay here," he said and pushed Chepe into the darkness of the quiet corridor, shutting the door behind them.

Jack scanned the room, holding up the lantern, which seemed to provide even less light now that the door was closed. "Well..." he said.

"Well," Sun echoed.

"Maybe if we move some of these boxes," he gestured. "We can probably figure out a way to make this place a little more comfortable – maybe make a place to sit or lie down."

"It feels damp in here, Jack," Sun said abruptly. She moved closer, breaching the short distance between them. She leaned in and grabbed the lantern from his outstretched arm. "Let me see that."

Jack relinquished the lantern, suddenly drunk with the feeling of her warm body pressed against him. She pulled up his sleeve, examining his sutures. The gash was still healing. He dropped his other arm, letting it rest gently on her side.

"Should we wrap this again?" Sun asked after setting the lantern on the shelf behind them. She raised her eyes to meet his and found them curiously wide. "We don't know how long we'll be down here or what kind of germs are floating around. We don't want to risk infection."

Jack only nodded, not bothering to stop the flood of thoughts filling his mind. She was so close, her hair pulled back messily, softly brushing her neck.

"Jack? Are you all right?" Sun reached up, touching his rough cheek, pulling him out of his trance.

"Yeah, fine," he said, nodding his head suddenly, awkwardly.

"You're not claustrophobic, are you?" Sun asked, though she knew the answer was no. She suddenly became aware of his hand at her waist and his hip pressing into her stomach. She pulled back slightly, dropping her hands from his face and arm.

"No." He shook his head. "Just a little tired," he lied.

"Well let's re-arrange these boxes, and maybe we can get some sleep," she said. "I'll wrap that arm later."

* * *

The canal was calm, like a sound, and the boat moved smoothly through it. Jack had arranged the boxes so that both he and Sun could sit somewhat comfortably on top of a pair of large sturdy crates, while Sun had fruitlessly searched the room for a new bulb. The small lantern's dim yellow light was all they had to see by, and their eyes quickly grew accustomed to the level of darkness. Chepe had made good on his promise and brought them a basket of food, mostly bread, and a jug of water. 

The boat had been on the move for only a couple of hours, so it was still mid-morning. Sun pulled her legs to her chest and leaned back into the wall behind her crate. Jack took a sip of water from the jug and handed it to her.

"Thirsty?"

"No." She shook her head. "I'm all right."

"Awfully quiet over there," he said. He stood and moved onto her crate, sitting next to her with her knees pressing against his good shoulder. "Thinking too much?"

"Maybe too little," she answered monotonously.

"You're a bad liar." He smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Something's got you restless."

She sighed then, a deep and defeated sigh. "What do you think we're going to find in Santa Catalina, Jack? Do we even know what to look for?"

"There's a monastery," he said after a moment. He hadn't mentioned it before, not for any particular reason, just hadn't. "Locke's message said, 'Go to God.' I don't know if it has anything to do with it. Maybe it doesn't. Hell, Locke's never very easy to understand even when you're face to face with him. But it's a start."

"Do you think he's safe?" Sun sat up, crossing her legs in front of her.

"He's alive, isn't he?" He turned to face her.

"We're alive and we've never been safe, Jack," she said honestly. "I don't feel like there's such a thing as safe anymore. I stopped believing in that a long time ago." She lowered her head, feeling the sting of tears dangerously close, and swallowed hard to keep them at bay.

Jack reached over and pulled her to him. She nearly collapsed into his lap, her arms wrapping desperately around his steely frame. "Look at me," he said after a moment, cupping her chin with his hand. She looked up at him, face glistening with salty tears. "I promise I'll keep us safe, okay?"

She looked away from him then, at her shoes, her scuffed pant leg, the dirty floor, trying to push away the thought of the bloodshed of forgotten friends. She knew the folly of his statement – how truly impossible it was for him to promise her something like that. And she hated him for saying it, despite wanting him to comfort her. That wasn't what she had truly wanted. What she had really wanted was for the reassurances to be true. And now those empty words of comfort ate away at her, spread doubt through her like a drop of blood in a bucket of water. "You can't promise me that, Jack."

"Why not?" His voice was hollow, giving away his own disbelief.

"You just can't." She felt the tears on her face harden as they dried.

"I know," he said and pulled her in closer. "I know."

They sat together like that for a long time, her arms around his abdomen and her head resting on his shoulder. After a moment, she sat up fully but kept herself locked to him. She felt the rush of air between their bodies and sucked in a sharp breath before snuggling close to him again. She closed her eyes and, for a moment, she did feel safe, with his strong arms wrapped around her and those tight walls enclosing them. It was fleeting – a transient yet entirely real feeling.

And then came the footsteps.

* * *

When Jai grabbed her by the arm and yanked her from Jack's grasp, Sun shouted. She hadn't spoken Korean in longer than she could remember, but they don't have English translations for words like that. 

She could feel Jack behind her, reaching for his gun, his warmth still so connected with hers. But it was too late. Chepe, coming in from behind Jai, already had his at the ready. "Be cool! Be cool!" Sun heard him say, but her thoughts were moving so quickly she couldn't be sure.

"Let her go!" Jack reached for her.

"Would you shut the fuck up?" Chepe hissed at Jack. "She's going with him now, all right? If you shout again, someone's gonna come down here and find us. I don't know who you're running from, but I'm guessing that being arrested might make it easier for them to find you."

"No! No!" Sun screamed. Chepe moved to hit her, to shut her up, but Jai pulled her out of his reach.

"Quiet!" Chepe shouted, the corners of his mouth wet with spit.

"Idiot! Put it away!" Jai growled and pushed Chepe's arms down, glaring at him until he relented and stuck the gun back into his belt. Jack advanced, taking a step toward him now that he was disarmed. Jai glared at Chepe and then back to Jack, "Don't be stupid, man. Just put it down."

"Not until you let her go," Jack said.

Jai looked at Sun now and loosened his grip on her arm. "Sun? Is that your name? Sun?" She nodded but didn't look up at him. "I need you to come with me, Sun," he said. "Please, just look at me."

"Sun, you stay right here." Jack interrupted.

Sun took in a shaky breath and lifted her gaze to Jai. He had stopped the other one from hitting her. He didn't have to do that. So now she looked at him.

"I promise you, I mean no harm," he said. "Please? Please come?"

Sun stared and blinked hard, to be sure she could tell what she was seeing. Deep within his dark brown eyes and that desperate voice was a nugget of truth. He was earnest, and at that moment she had made up her mind. There wasn't a question. It was knowledge she felt. She was going to be okay this time. She nodded, and Jai smiled, not a triumphant smile, but one of gratitude.

"Jack," Sun turned slightly, looking back at him. "I'm going with him."

"What?" Jack lowered his gun. "No," he said. "You're not. You're staying right here."

"Jack, listen to me," she said. "Trust _me_. I'm going to be fine."

Jack narrowed his eyes and loosened his grip on the gun in his hands. He slipped it behind him begrudgingly.

"I'm going to be fine," she said again as she stepped out of the room with Jai and Chepe. "I'm going to be fine, Jack. Trust me… I'm…" Her words were cut off by the heavy metal door slamming shut after them, followed by the soft click of the lock from outside.

Jack swallowed hard and kicked the door violently. "Fuck!"


	6. Chapter 6: God

**So far:** Jack and Sun are separated when stowed away on a tourist ship in the Panama Canal.

**Chapter 6: God**

Confidence. Sun had felt full of it when she had left Jack in that cluttered room. The tiny lights lining the walkway – which reminded her of the lights in a movie theater – gave off an eerie, unsettling glow, and the soft whirring of the boat's engine caused a lump to rise in her throat. The longer she followed Jai down that winding corridor and the farther away she was from Jack, the more she felt that confidence slipping away from her. She heard Chepe's uneven breaths behind her and swallowed hard, hoping she could drown out the noise. She tried to remember why she had made such a stupid decision as to go with them, to put her trust in them.

"Shh!" Jai whispered and held up his hand – a signal. Sun and Chepe halted instantly. She held her breath and listened carefully; for the first time, she could hear the soft lapping of water against the boat. The sound in the hallway was not as muffled as in the storage room. Then, she heard something else. There were footsteps, but they weren't coming from behind them.

"Above us," Sun whispered to Jai, who turned around to face them.

"Okay," he nodded towards Chepe, "you need to go back to the storage room. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid to get us all caught. I'll take her to the room."

Chepe nodded and wordlessly turned back towards the storage room. After he rounded the corner, Jai pressed up against the wall, allowing Sun the space to pass him in the narrow corridor. Despite the knot that grew tighter in her stomach with every step, Sun pressed on, walking past him. She looked back at him for instructions.

"Just up ahead, the door to the right," he said and pointed.

Looking ahead about twenty feet, she saw a stream of yellow light peeking out through the crack at the bottom of the first door. This was it. Had she been right about him? She wondered. She hoped. She closed her eyes, taking another step forward. A myriad of thoughts rushed through her mind, all sorts of scenarios, but she could not have expected the sound she heard next.

* * *

Three feet – that's how much space Jack had between their crates and the door. He paced that length back and forth, cursing under his breath. He remembered her face, her words. _Trust me, Jack._ He closed his eyes, halting his steady motion. How could he have let them take her? And so easily? It was only her reassurance that allowed it to happen. But the longer he waited, the more his mind filled with the thought of what might be happening to her – Jai's rough hands on her skin, a gun, a shout, her cries, something taken that didn't belong to them. Try as he might, he couldn't push the thoughts away. He sank to the floor, back against the wooden crate they had shared together. "Sun," he whispered and touched the white gauze she had wrapped his arm with. "I'm so sorry."

There was a sharp knock at the door and he jerked his head up, standing quickly. "Sun?"

* * *

It was unmistakable, muffled, but at that moment, it was as clear as anything she had ever heard – the sound of a lullaby. Jai urged her forward, pushing her gently on the shoulder. She looked to him for an explanation, only to find his eyes full of desperation. "I'm sorry I hurt you," he offered. "I was scared. I panicked." She nodded and continued on her way. When they reached the door, Jai pushed it open.

The room was mostly empty save for a few crates, with grey walls and a small lantern, not unlike the one she and Jack had used. A young girl in a tan-colored skirt and top sat in the corner, on the floor. In her arms, swaddled in a grey blanket, there was a tiny nursing baby.

"Hello," she said, "I'm Sun."

The girl stopped singing and looked up. "Hello, Sun. I'm Mirabel. This is Luz," she said quietly. "I saw Chepe bring you and your friend in this morning. I watched in the dark."

Sun knelt down, sitting beside her. Mirabel was young – fifteen, perhaps younger. She was skinny too, not someone Sun would have imagined had just given birth. The baby was tiny, dark hair matted down, pink skin, small fists pumping involuntarily as she suckled at her mother's breast – a newborn. "When was she born?" Sun knew it had to be recently.

"Yesterday, in the night," Mirabel answered.

Sun glared at Jai, who stood by the doorway, keeping his distance. "Why would you bring her here? This isn't any place for a newborn. She could get sick."

"I asked him to," said Mirabel. Sun turned to her then and noticed how pale the girl looked. She continued, "My father does not approve. Jai is Chocoe."

"Chocoe? I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"Chocoe is Indian," she explained further. "Jai was born in the city, went to school with my brothers and me. But my father, he's very racist. He would send my baby away or kill Jai or both." Mirabel gave a heartbroken half-smile. "He's not a very understanding man." Sun knew how Mirabel must feel. It wasn't love that had prompted her own father to accept Jin into her life, that much was certain. If she had known that then, she would have run away too.

"I ran away last week," Mirabel continued. "Chepe's been helping us. We were meant to go sooner, before the baby. But I started feeling sick. Couldn't travel. I'm scared for her. She won't cry or nothing. I never had a baby before. I don't know if she's right. She doesn't seem right…" Mirabel's voice drifted as she buttoned her blouse and looked at Luz, now sleeping. "Does she seem right to you?" The young mother thrust the swaddled infant urgently towards Sun, who took the baby girl into her arms gently.

"That's not why I brought her here, Mira. Luzita is fine. Tell her." Mirabel looked at Jai and rolled her eyes.

"I'm fine, Jai. Don't worry," she grumbled.

"You're not fine," he insisted. He knelt next to Sun. "She bled again today." He reached over and gestured towards Mirabel's dress. There was a dark wet stain there that Sun had not seen before. "I thought you might know what to do."

"Are you still bleeding?" Sun asked, concerned.

"No," Mirabel said forcefully, giving Jai an annoyed expression.

"Have you been to a hospital?" The sleeping child stirred in Sun's arms, letting out a soft sigh as she slept. She seemed healthy enough – just quiet, exhausted from her journey into existence. Sun looked at Jai, full of worry, and then into the tired eyes of the girl at her side. She knew that it wasn't the child she should be worrying about.

"Not yet." Mirabel shook her head. "There was a hospital in Gatun. I had a doctor waiting for me. By the time we knew she was coming, it was too late. I could not go to a hospital here – Papa would be looking for me there. He knew the time was soon." Mirabel's voice continued to grow faint as she talked; her exhaustion was beginning to overcome her.

"Jack," Sun said abruptly, as though the thought just occurred to her. She looked at Jai. "He's a doctor."

* * *

"Your girlfriend is safe," Chepe's voice came from behind the door. "She's with him now."

The words pierced Jack's brain like bullets. She was with him, Jai. Maybe she had trusted him, but Jack did not. "What is he doing with her?"

"That's none of your concern," said Chepe through the door. "You just shut your mouth and stay put."

Jack didn't respond. He felt his face flush with red-hot anger. He stood and walked closer to the door, pressing his ear to it for several long moments. He knew he couldn't get it open himself. He'd already tried; his fist throbbed at the memory, and he looked down at his bloody knuckles. Frustration had gotten the better of him. He stood back again so his voice would sound far away. "Why are you here?"

Then he heard the latch being unlocked. "I'm here to make sure you don't do anything stupid. I'm coming in," Chepe said.

Jack positioned himself just behind the door. Chepe pushed the door open and took one step into the room. He turned to the side just as the butt of Jack's gun came crashing into his jaw with the sickening smack of flesh, metal and blood. Chepe staggered forward, unable to keep his balance.

Jack hit him again. Chepe brought his hand to his face, feeling the warmth of blood spilling from his nostrils. Jack pushed the door closed and kicked him in the back of the leg, forcing him to his knees.

Chepe lunged wildly at Jack's legs, but Jack stepped back and narrowly avoided the boy's grasp. Chepe nearly fell, grabbing onto one of the crates to pull himself up. Jack aimed the gun at his temple.

"Take me to her," he said, voice firm and thick with fury.

"No," said Chepe, still on his knees. He reached for his gun, and even the cold barrel of Jack's nine-millimeter pressed to his temple didn't stop him. He held out the gun, a revolver, limply, and pulled back the hammer. Jack easily swatted the gun from his hands and then lowered his aim.

"Suit yourself," Jack said. He hit Chepe a third time. It would be the last. The boy fell to the floor with a sharp and painful cry.

* * *

"What do you mean, you won't?" Sun asked, upset at Jai's refusal to bring Jack to look after mother and child. "You brought me here to help. He's a doctor! He can help! He should have a look at her. He should have a look at them both."

"Please, just keep your voice down. I just don't trust him." Jai shook his head. "That's why we didn't bring him here."

"But you trust me?" Sun asked. "I don't care who you trust," she continued before he could respond. "You're going to bring Jack here. If you don't and something happens to this baby, if something happens to Mirabel, it is nobody's fault but your own, Jai. Think about that."

"I won't have him here." Jai said now, raising his voice slightly. "I'm taking you back. Mirabel, take Luzita from her."

Sun handed the baby to Mirabel and stood. "Why are you being so stubborn?"

"Let's go!" Jai said, grabbing her arm more forcefully than he had earlier.

"No!" Sun screamed and tried to pull her arm from his grasp. "Jai, don't do this!"

* * *

Jack remembered that they had turned left when he watched them exit the room. He slowly advanced down the winding corridor, making sure to check each room as he went past. Finally, he saw a light coming from beneath one of the doors and picked up his pace. He raised the gun as he approached the door, backing against the cold wall. He heard voices from inside.

"No!" It was Sun. "Jai, don't do this! Please! You're hurting me!" she shouted.

Jack kicked in the door, which swung easily open. Sun and Jai stood in the middle of the small, dimly lit room, and Jai once again had Sun's arm firmly in his grasp. They both jerked their heads towards him as the door opened.

"Let her go!" Jack shouted and fingered the trigger lightly.

"Jack, no!" Sun shouted and reached for the gun. Jai let go of her as she did.

Jack lowered his arms, not because of Sun's shouting, but because of the sound he heard next. Luz filled the air with a piercing cry. He stepped forward and could see a mother and child hidden behind one of the crates.

"¡Escucha!" Mirabel laughed. "¡Finalmente, Sun¡Mira!"

* * *

"She's lost a lot of blood," Jack said to Sun and Jai. Mirabel slept in the corner with Luz at her side, finally succumbing to her exhaustion. "That's typical, especially for an at-home birth. The baby is healthy. But Mirabel…" he shook his head. "They both need to be a checked into a hospital as soon as we arrive in Gatun. She may have an infection. She needs medical attention, antibiotics, maybe a transfusion, things I can't do for her here." Jai nodded in understanding.

Chepe sat on a nearby crate and grimaced as he held a cloth to his bloody, swollen nose. "And what about me? My nose? Is it broken?"

Jack sighed, "I'm afraid so."

"Son-of-a…" Chepe started.

Jack cut him off. "You gave me no choice, you know?"

Sun walked over to Mirabel as Jack continued talking with the boys. Mother and daughter were sleeping deeply now, breathing steady and synchronized. Sun sat cross-legged beside them. She couldn't help but envy the girl. Of course there were tough times ahead, but there would soon be an end to Mirabel's journey. Now that she was out of her father's clutches, she, Jai, and Luz could start their life together without fear. Sun still had miles to go, maybe forever.

Sun glanced up at Jack, his shirt splattered with dried blood – his own, Chepe's, Mirabel's. She had asked him to trust her, and he had doubted her. But now was not the time to think of that; she pushed away her angry thoughts. Beside her, Mirabel stirred. Sun looked down and saw that the girl was staring right at her, a slight grin on her face.

"Jai makes me angry like that too," she said quietly.

"What?" Sun asked.

"Your doctor friend," said Mirabel. "It's obvious he really cares for you, you know?"

"We've been through a lot," Sun said and shrugged, ignoring Mirabel's implications.

"Maybe," said Mirabel. "But he looks at you like Jai looks at me."

Sun shook her head and smiled weakly, "No."

Mirabel chuckled. "You'll see," she said. "You'll see."


End file.
